by Julia Griffin

“We have now found juvenile seals with eels stuck in their noses on multiple occasions.”
—Facebook page of the Hawaiian Monk Seal Research Program

We find this week that youthful seals
Have taken to inhaling eels—
Or else we’re seeing eels spelunk
Their way through seals’ phlegmatic gunk.
There’s photographic evidence
Of something’s loss of common sense,
As humankind (for once some use)
Does all it can to tug them loose.
What is the cause of this new fad?
Perhaps the beasts are going mad;
Or maybe it’s a staged tableau
To show how far both kinds will go.
Remember, though our race supposes
There’s something gross in eels-up-noses,
We’ve found no universal rule
For what the young believe is cool.

by Edmund Conti

“Former Attorney General William Barr is Trump’s leading contender for AG”—The Hill

For this, I’ve no ambition.
I ought to let it pass.
But I’ll take the position
To save the boss’s ass.

by Ruth S. Baker

“In a dazzling discovery, fossils brought up from a mine in Wee Warra, near the Australian outback town of Lightning Ridge, belong to the newly named dinosaur species Weewarrasaurus pobeni. The animal, which was about the size of a Labrador retriever, walked on its hind legs and had both a beak and teeth for nibbling vegetation. A type of dinosaur known as an ornithopod, Weewarrasaurus may have moved in herds or small groups for protection.”—National Geographic

The climate’s shot:
The poles are hot,
The seas are spoiled and yeasty;
What have we got?
A knack, that’s what
(More sciency than priesty),
For bringing round
From underground
The dead and gone—at least, we
Out back have found
This fossil-bound
Weewarrasaurus beastie!

“Ornithopod!
If I were God,
You’d live,” I sighed; then smarted
As, with an odd
Sarcastic nod
He spoke, like one re-started:
“Your grief is worth
No more than mirth:
But if you’re tender-hearted,
And long for dearth
To pause on earth,
It’s time your kind departed.”

by Brendan Beary

George Bush now lies in state—
Stark contrast, I suppose;
The guy who’s POTUS now
Lies everywhere he goes.

by Julia Griffin

“NYPD to return British couple’s engagement ring lost after proposal”
—The Guardian

A ring on the hand
May be quite sacramental,
But sergeants are a girl’s best friend;

A ring may be grand,
But it’s not worth a lentil
For a tender date
Once down the grate
In New York State:

She freaks out
While he’s in doubt
How much more she expects him to spend;

But, Flatbush to Flat Street,
You can’t beat those Flatfeet!
And sergeants are a girl’s best friend.

There may be some types
Who say “Let’s just forget it”:
But sergeants are a girl’s best friend;

It may be old pipes
May seem much much too fetid:
But these Cops say: Dive!
And then high-five,
As this goes live:

Grates get cold,
Intentions fold,
And we all slope off home in the end;

So let’s bow the knee to
The NYPD crew!
For sergeants are a girl’s best friend.